


It’s Echoing in Me

by WeAreTheLuckyOnes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angel Dean, Bottom Castiel, Choking, Fluff, Grooming, Hunter Castiel, Immobilization, Impact Play, Light BDSM, Light D/s, M/M, Minor Angst, Rimming, Smut, Top Dean, breath play, reverse verse, wing fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:54:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29322012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeAreTheLuckyOnes/pseuds/WeAreTheLuckyOnes
Summary: As the war in heaven draws on, Dean goes longer between visits to earth, and to Castiel.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32
Collections: Profound Bond Gift Exchange: Reunion





	It’s Echoing in Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DaddysGracelessAngel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaddysGracelessAngel/gifts).



> A gift for the lovely Candy (AKA DaddysGracelessAngel) for the Profound Bond’s Exchange. Candy is my favourite (but don’t tell anyone) because they’ve been kind enough to beta another fic I wrote for a bang, so I’m so glad I got them for the exchange so I could make them a present to say thank you!
> 
> Title from In Case You Don’t Live Forever by Ben Plat, which is so beautiful and so sad that it should be illegal and I hate it.
> 
> I honestly don’t know what happened, it was supposed to be porn but then it was porn and feelings and now it’s porn and feelings and wing grooming?
> 
> Beta’d by the lovely [you-changedmedean](https://you-changedmedean.tumblr.com) and [queer-cas](https://queer-cas.tumblr.com), thank you so much guys!

Castiel stumbles into the apartment early in the morning, with Claire hot on his heels, barely managing to make it to the couch before he collapses, holding his hand over the haphazardly stitched wound in the meat of his hip. Claire locks the door behind them, checking the warding and salt lines before dropping their bags on the ground.

“Do I need to wake Gabriel? ‘Cause I need to sleep, and I’m supposed to be meeting up with Kaia for lunch. I can’t babysit you all night to make sure you don’t die,” she tells him, pulling off her coat and hanging it on the wall hook, between Gabriel’s leather jacket and Jack’s little pea coat. She turns to him with her arms crossed over her chest and her eyebrow raised, ever the belligerent twenty-two year old.

“I’m fine, go to bed. I have to call Dean, anyway,” Castiel replies, shuffling on the couch until he’s more comfortable. Claire has the gall to smirk at him. “My face is covered in road rash and I have a hole the size of a fist in my hip, don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m sure he’ll heal you right up when he comes,” she says, snorting and rolling her eyes, saluting him on her way out of the room and into the hallway.

Castiel decides, not for the first time, that it’s entirely Gabriel’s fault that Claire is such a shit - and goddamn him for it.

He’s about to reach into his jacket pocket for his phone to call Dean when the flutter of wings announces the presence of an angel. When he looks up, Dean is standing before him.

“Good timing Dean, I was just about to call you.”

“What happened to you?” The angel asks, circling the coffee table and kneeling on the floor in front of Castiel. He reaches out to push Castiel’s hand away from the wound, lifting his shirt and carefully taking off the gauze. “What were you hunting? Your wound resembles a bite mark.”

“It is, but it wasn’t a werewolf or anything, just a shapeshifter who took a bite out of me for fun,” Castiel replies, rolling his eyes, shifting uncomfortably when Dean presses gentle fingers to the skin besides his wound. Warmth blossoms between their skin, spreading through Castiel’s entire body, and the pain eases, leaving Castiel’s wounds healed. “You didn’t have to do that Dean, you need to save your Grace. I was perfectly happy healing on my own. But… thank you.”

Dean smiles brightly and says, “Purely selfish. If I hadn’t healed you, I wouldn’t be able to do this.”

Dean leans up and wraps his hands around Castiel’s face, pulling him into a kiss, mouth gentle against Castiel’s own. Castiel kisses back, licking into his mouth and tasting Dean’s tongue. He tastes like cherries, like he’s been sneaking away from his garrison just to come down and eat pie, which isn’t necessarily unusual for him, and endlessly amusing to Castiel.

Castiel pulls away after what feels like forever and smiles down at Dean. “I missed you.”

Dean strokes Castiel’s cheek gently and says, “I missed you too, Castiel. I’m sorry I’ve been away for so long.”

Castiel pulls Dean up onto the couch with him and shuffles them around so Castiel’s lying on his back against the cushions and Dean is settled between his thighs. Castiel loves holding him like this - running his fingers through Dean’s hair and stroking along Dean’s back, shoulders, and arms - even if Dean gets antsy quickly, needing to move. It’s so un-angel-like, Dean’s constant need to be active, he’s like no other angel Castiel’s ever met.

“It’s okay Dean, I know you have important things to do in heaven.” Dean has his hand rested over Castiel’s heart, his chin braced on top. He’s studying Castiel like he does sometimes, when he’s trying to figure Castiel out, as if he is some intricate puzzle. As if he doesn’t already know everything about Castiel. “How’s everything going upstairs? You obviously had time to come down and visit me so it must be going well.”

Dean hums, and with a nod, replies, “Naomi and Bartholomew have been captured. Michael is optimistic.”

“Well that’s gotta say something about the war if _Michael_ is optimistic.” Castiel reaches forward and threads his fingers through Dean’s fringe. “And I suppose Sam is covering for you?”

“Michael knows I’m down here, though he believes I’m gathering intelligence.” Dean squirms, re-settling himself over Castiel. “Though somehow I suspect he knows and just doesn’t care, so long as I help him win his war against Raphael.”

“How long do you think you’ll have until they call you back?”

“A few hours. Maybe until breakfast if you promise me bacon,” Dean smirks. 

Castiel chuckles, leaning forward to kiss Dean again, sucking Dean’s bottom lip into his mouth, sinking his teeth into the flesh gently. Dean makes a noise in the back of his throat and surges forward to kiss Castiel harder. Castiel slides his arms around Dean and holds him close, licking the taste of cherries from the angel’s mouth until the taste of him is all that’s left.

A voice in the back of Castiel’s mind reminds him of the brother, niece and toddler sleeping down the hallway. He hates the interruption, but he knows it’s right. He pulls away from Dean and says, “Grab some blankets, we’re going for a drive.”

Dean’s grin is toothy as he climbs off of Castiel and disappears in the direction of the hallway. Castiel stands and goes in search of the keys for the truck, leaving Gabriel and Claire a note on the coffee table. In it, he tells them he’s healed and is with Dean in case they wake before he returns. Castiel isn’t stupid enough to think they aren’t going to know exactly what he and Dean are doing, so he doesn’t bother coming up with a convincing lie. 

Dean returns, overburdened with blankets and pillows, and the duvet from Castiel’s bed, and Castiel helps him carry them out to the truck. He makes sure that the go-kit is still under the back seat in case they come across trouble before they set off.

There’s a lookout they go to sometimes when the apartment’s full and Castiel worries about disturbing the others. It’s where Dean first appeared to him when the war in heaven spilled over onto Earth and made the inclusion of human hunters a necessity in the fight against Raphael. It’s been years since that day, almost a decade, and even if the battles on Earth have become far less frequent, leaving hunters less imperative, Dean still returns to Castiel. Every time.

Castiel lays the blankets in the tray as a makeshift mattress, to soften the surface, then sets the pillows in a pile at the head, near the cabin, and the duvet in a heap at the end. When Dean climbs into the tray after him, he has the lube and condoms from the case under the driver’s seat.

Castiel grins at him and says, “Alright, now where were we?” before pulling the angel into another kiss.

It’s been weeks since Castiel last saw Dean, last touched him, and he wants to savour it, in case he has to wait longer next time. He kisses Dean like he’s starving, until his mouth is wet and swollen and his whole body feels like a live wire, buzzing with it. Dean is deliciously impatient, groaning into Castiel’s mouth, squirming in his arms and trying to get Castiel out of his shirt. Castiel takes pity on him and sits them up, pulling his jacket off of his shoulders and his shirt over his head. The sudden nakedness kicks Dean into gear, and the angel begins to manhandle Castiel until he’s where he wants him, before his mouth latches onto Castiel’s neck. He sucks a harsh mark into Castiel’s skin with his lips and teeth that leaves Castiel moaning, body quivering. Once he’s satisfied with the mark he’s made, he scrapes his teeth along the line of Castiel’s throat and bites down just below Castiel’s ear. It pulls a high whimper from Castiel’s throat.

Oh, Dean’s in one of _those_ moods. Castiel can definitely get down with that.

Dean’s mouth migrates to Castiel’s nipple, sucking it to a hardened point. Castiel threads his fingers through the hair at the base of Dean’s skull and holds on as the angel lavishes both nipples with his tongue, switching back and forth between the two. Gentle nips of Dean’s teeth join his tongue, and then sucking lips, and Castiel’s left with bruises on his chest that’ll be there even when Dean isn’t. Bruises Castiel will feel, see, bruises he can touch to remind him of this moment every time he misses Dean.

Dean's eyes are bright on the moonlight when he looks up at Castiel. Castiel’s chest feels tight and he pulls the angel close just to kiss him again.

“Clothes, Dean, take ‘em off.”

Dean takes it too literally, as he always does, because rather than undressing the two of them by hand, he disappears their clothes. The sudden lack of barriers between their skin leaves Castiel breathless, goosebumps raising all over his skin.

He’s hard, and the throbbing heat of Dean’s own dick is pressed into the crook between Castiel’s groin and thigh indicating that he’s feeling exactly the same. Castiel pulls him back into a kiss and gets a hand around Dean’s ass to tug their bodies closer. He tries to get Dean to thrust against him, digging his fingers into the angel’s skin to urge him on, but the bastard’s not having a bar of it, and he pulls away with a chuckle.

“Patience, Castiel. We’ll get to that. First, turn over.”

Castiel smiles smugly, and perhaps a little stupidly, and does as told, rolling onto his front when Dean crawls out of the way. He rescues one of the pillows from under his head and wiggles it under his hips. Dean takes another pillow, wedging it with the first, arching Castiel’s back further so his ass is higher in the air. The angle makes the base of his spine ache just enough to merge nicely with the heat in his gut, lighting his body on fire before Dean’s even gotten around to touching him.

Dean’s fingers stroke down Castiel’s back and between his cheeks, over his hole. He lingers there for a moment and Castiel feels tendrils of his Grace inside him, cleaning the inside of his body, something Dean only does if he plans to get his mouth on Castiel.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Castiel mutters at the first touch of Dean’s tongue. He buries his face further into the pillows, grasping them in his hands as Dean carefully, agonisingly slowly, laves his tongue over Castiel’s hole. Dean's hands come up to spread Castiel’s cheeks apart so he can press his face in deeper and dig his tongue in the furl of skin, wrenching a whine from Castiel’s throat.

Castiel once asked Dean how he got so damn good at all the things he was proficient at during sex. Dean had just finished fucking Castiel’s absolute brains out against a tree on a hunt, and as they were pulling their clothes back on, Castiel’s legs still shaking from his orgasm, and Dean’s answer had been to simply mumble under his breath about Vatsyayana Mallanaga and the Whore of Babylon. Castiel knew the history of the Whore of Babylon, he was raised a devoted Christian after all, but he had to research Vatsyayana Mallanaga. After quite a few misspellings, he’d discovered the words were a name, the name of an Indian philosopher who had authored the Kama Sutra. It still amuses Castiel to no end that Dean, a celestial being as old as the universe had learned sex from the guy who wrote the manual on ridiculously complicated positions and a damn demon. It’s even more hilarious that he’s _so damned good at it_.

Dean switches between laving the flat of his tongue over Castiel’s hole, and spearing the muscle inside Castiel’s body. His fingers are tight in Castiel’s flesh, no doubt leaving more bruises for Castiel to marvel at later, Dean knowing how much he likes them. Castiel’s entire body is shaking, and he’s pressing his face into the pillows to muffle the whines being torn from his mouth, though it’s not working very well. 

Dean’s fingers, slick with lube, join his mouth, and he opens Castiel up for his cock quickly. He stretches Castiel until it won’t hurt when he pushes inside, but he won’t be loose, just tight enough to make it _so, so good_. Castiel’s entire body is shaking with anticipation, his blood alight with fire. 

Dean’s mouth and fingers disappear, and his body moves away from Castiel’s. Castiel looks back to see where he’s gone and starts to whine for him to come back, when a sharp sting spreads out through his backside, left in the wake of Dean’s hand. Castiel chokes out a breath and presses his face back into the pillows, only turning to the side enough that he can breathe.

“Patience, Castiel,” Dean says firmly. 

Oh okay, yeah he’s _definitely_ in one of those moods and Castiel’s pretty sure he’s about to be absolutely obliterated. He is so ready for it.

Castiel listens to Dean as he rolls a condom on, then lets himself be lifted so one can be rolled onto his own cock. They’ve been fucking completely exclusively for years now, mostly because Castiel’s irrevocably in love with the bastard, and even if they weren’t, Dean is an angel, unlikely to catch human sexually transmitted diseases, but they always wear condoms. It’s Castiel’s one rule. He absolutely hates the mess.

Dean gets in between Castiel’s thighs and taps the base of Castiel’s spine, a wordless command Castiel knows well. Castiel shuffles until his head is in a comfortable position so he can wriggle his arms down, crossing them over his back. This is one of Castiel’s favourite positions (it follows closely behind riding Dean and Dean pressing his face into a hard surface). It makes him feel boxed in, unable to move, and he loves it.

One of Dean’s hands curls around Castiel’s crossed wrists, holding on tightly as he feeds his cock inside Castiel’s body. Once the head pops inside Castiel, Dean grinds his hips in, just slow enough not to hurt Castiel, but still bottoming out in seconds. Castiel groans deep in his chest as the tip of Dean’s cock brushes against his prostate briefly, tugging at his wrists in Dean’s hold, just to feel Dean’s hand tighten. Dean’s strong, he could break Castiel’s wrists if he holds Castiel too hard, but he’s always careful. It’s always tight enough that Castiel can feel it, and he can’t get away, but never hard enough to actually hurt. 

Dean thrusts start slow, grinding his hips in, and that’s fine for a while, really, except Castiel can be just about about as impatient as Dean can, especially when it comes to his orgasm. Without the use of his hands, he has to get clever. He tries clenching his body around Dean’s cock - not that that ever works - then tries to thrust his hips back, but Dean only presses his free hand down into Castiel’s back so he can’t move anymore.

“Fuck, Dean, c’mon. I can’t be patient, you know I can’t be patient,” Castiel whines, shivering, toes curling when the next grind in is just a little harder and goes just a little longer. His blood burns in his veins and he groans into the pillows. “For god’s sake, Dean.”

Dean laughs, and Castiel might just hit him, given the chance. “Say please.”

Castiel rolls his eyes behind his eyelids. _Of course_. Dean wants him to beg.

Castiel would hold off, tell him no, if he had any self control whatsoever, really he would. “Dean, _please_.”

A sound like the crack of lightning comes with Dean’s first hard shove in and the angel shouts something in Enochian and begins to pull back.

“Dean? What happened?” Castiel asks, trying to twist his body so he can look back at Dean. The angel releases his wrists and Castiel manages to get himself up on his elbows and his upper body turned around. It instantly becomes pretty apparent why Dean stopped. “Dean, your wings manifested.”

“I know, shit, I haven’t been able to manifest them in weeks so they pick the _worst_ time to do it themselves,” Dean grumbles, pulling his cock from Castiel’s body and sitting back on his haunches. It leaves enough space for Castiel to be able to roll over onto his back without kicking Dean in the face as he does so, and then sit up. Dean’s arm is reached around his opposite shoulder and it looks like he’s scratching at the base of his wing, face scrunched up into a wince. “Sorry, Cas.”

“Are they uncomfortable?” Castiel asks, knee shuffling closer to Dean, pulling the angel’s arm away to stop him from scratching. He doesn’t know a lot about wings, and even less about angel wings - this is the first time Dean’s ever let him see them - but he’s pretty sure they’re not supposed to be all clumped together like that. “I think your wings need a wash, Dean.”

Dean makes a face. “I don’t normally let them go this long without grooming, I’ve been busy.” He tries to itch it again, but he also lets Castiel hold him back when he stops him. 

“Hey, we can go back to the apartment and I can clean them,” Castiel says, turning his head to the side for a moment to look for his clothes. Fuck, where had Dean disappeared them to? “Hey, where’d you put our clothes?”

A soft look crosses Dean’s face. “You’d rather go back to your apartment and groom my wings than have sex? Who are you?”

“Castiel,” Castiel replies, shrugging his shoulders.

He’s about to ask Dean where his clothes are again when Dean pulls him in by his waist and kisses him again, holding Castiel’s face in his hands. “I love you. It can wait a little bit longer, but I don’t think they’ll go back.”

“I love you too, Dean,” Castiel replies, grinning brightly as he climbs up onto his knees and sets himself in Dean’s lap with his arms around the angel’s shoulders. “Are you sure? I don’t mind.”

Dean nods. “I’m sure.”

Castiel nods. “Okay, but can I see them while you fuck me?”

Dean chuckles and nods his head, placing a hand on Castiel’s back before pushing the both of them back into the blankets. He folds Castiel’s legs out to the side and reaches down to press his dick back into Castiel’s body. He unhooks Castiel’s arms from around his neck and slips his fingers between Castiel’s, pressing his hands into the pillows above his head. 

Dean at least has the decency not to draw it out this time, fucking in and out of Castiel until Castiel’s body is shaking with his steadily growing pleasure. He squeezes Dean’s hands and arches his back so Dean’s cock brushes up against his prostate on every stroke. 

Dean’s face nuzzles into Castiel’s throat, pressing gentle kisses to Castiel’s skin, a contradiction to the hard thrust of his dick. Lightning shoots through Castiel’s body, stings of pleasure that make Castiel feel electric. He doesn’t think it’ll take much to make him come, or that Dean will even need to touch his cock. Dean’s wings flutter behind him, and Castiel really wants to reach out and touch them, but with his arms held down he’s immobile, unable to do anything other than look. They’re so dark, inky black but almost iridescent when the moonlight hits the feathers just right.

Dean must get bored of his wings taking up all Castiel’s attention, because within a moment he has both of Castiel’s wrists in one hand and the other curled around Castiel’s chin. “Pay attention to me.”

Castiel’s mouth tilts up into a broad smile and he raises an eyebrow at Dean. “Needy. I am paying attention to you, just not your face.”

Dean’s hand slides from Castiel’s chin to rest over his throat, fingers stretched one side, thumb over the other. He doesn’t press down, he’ll usually leave it there as a promise until Castiel’s coming, when he’ll finally squeeze his hand and rip Castiel’s sanity from him. The gentle pressure has the desired effect, Castiel lets his broad grin soften some to something much less smug, and he locks eyes with Dean. 

Castiel’s suddenly reminded of the first time he convinced Dean to try breath play. The angel had very happily catered to absolutely every one of Castiel’s other kinks, but he’d been terrified of hurting Castiel worse than he could fix. It had taken weeks to convince him, and a couple times when Dean had let Castiel do it on him to show him how it worked. When he’d finally agreed, Castiel had come so hard he’d blacked out and scared the absolute hell out of Dean. Dean had sworn he’d never do it again, but two weeks later he did, and Castiel came just as hard as the first time.

“Pay attention,” Dean murmurs, hand tightening incrementally - not enough to cut off Castiel’s breath, but enough to make him feel it.

“I am, I was thinking about when a scary powerful Angel of the Lord let me choke him just so he would know how not to kill me.”

Dean rolls his eyes dramatically. “Stop thinking.”

Castiel’s grin brightens again. Magic words. “Make me.”

Dean’s eyebrow raises towards his hairline. He moves his hand away from Castiel’s throat, which he would whine about - really - if it hadn’t gone straight into his hair, pulling his head back roughly so Dean’s mouth can latch onto his skin. 

An aggressive bite over an already tender bruise is joined by a particular vicious thrust of Dean’s hips, and Castiel’s pretty sure he loses all brain function. He flings his head back to open his throat to more of Dean’s mouth and is rewarded with another bite, this one just above his collarbone. 

“Dean, Dean, _please_ ,” Castiel begs, tugging helplessly at his wrists trapped in Dean’s hands. “Please, please, please, please.”

Another vicious thrust - one that nails Castiel’s prostate in the _best_ way - pushes their bodies up the tray, towards the surface above their heads. Dean has to let go of Castiel’s wrists so they don’t hit their heads, and Castiel whines desperately, begging wordlessly for the return of that pressure.

Dean pulls away from Castiel’s throat, hips slowing, but only enough that he can take one of Castiel’s hands and press it to the surface above his head. With Castiel’s other hand, he threads it around his own neck and directs him to clasps his fingers in his hair. “Don’t move your hands.”

Castiel nods his head and holds on as Dean picks up the pace of his hips again, this time, with one hand tight in Castiel’s hair, the other around his throat. Castiel vaguely thinks this might be one of those times he passes out as Dean’s fucking him, belly curved low so Castiel’s cock brushes against it. 

He’s proved right when Dean whispers, _”Come for me, Cas,_ and presses his fingers down on the sides of his neck, cutting off Castiel’s breath and leaving him dizzy as he’s plunged into his orgasm. It doesn’t feel like he’s passed out, it never does, but he just knows he has when his environment is different from one breath to the next.

Which is probably not the best analogy.

Dean’s no longer inside him, but he’s still braced over him, panting as he combs his fingers through Castiel’s fringe gently. He’s whispering to Castiel and it takes a couple more seconds for the words to filter in through the haze, words of praise and adoration and love. Castiel’s chest clenches and he tilts his head to the side and up so he can kiss his angel. Dean settles on top of Castiel carefully, enveloping him in the pressure of his body, and kisses him gently.

God, Castiel loves him a stupid amount. 

They stay there like that, with Dean on top of him, pressing the occasional kiss to Castiel’s mouth and whispering to him occasionally for what feels like hours, until the first rays of sun begin to peak from behind the horizon, bathing the world in an orange glow. Over Dean’s shoulder, Castiel watches as the sun illuminates Dean’s wings, lighting it up like Christmas, with shades of shiny blues and purples and greens in all of that inky black. His wings are dirty and the feathers are clumped together, but they’re still so beautiful. 

“Hey, we gotta get back. We can have more cuddles in the shower.” Dean makes a grumble of disapproval, but lets Castiel push him off. Castiel sits up and looks around the tray, remembering Dean disappeared their clothes again. “Clothes?”

Dean reaches out lazily to get his hand free and snaps his fingers, leaving Castiel clothed, but himself still naked and covered in sweat.

“Dean, at least put some pants on.”

Dean shakes his head. “Uh-uh. Drive us home and I’ll just transport myself to the bathroom. Besides, I don’t think I can get into the truck with my wings.”

Castiel sighs, put upon, and rolls his eyes. “Alright fine, give me a kiss.”

Dean does, happily, leaning up to plant one on Castiel’s mouth before Castiel climbs out of the tray.

Dean keeps his wings tucked up against his body on the drive back, and once they’re back in the lot of the apartment building he disappears before Castiel can even climb out of the cab. At least he takes the blankets and pillows with him.

Gabriel and Jack are already awake when Castiel lets himself inside the apartment. Jack’s sitting at the counter in his high chair, shovelling cereal into his mouth and spilling milk all over his front, and Gabriel’s staring blearily into the fridge. 

“Your boyfriend popped up in the bathroom while I was taking a piss,” Gabriel tells Castiel without looking at him, pulling the milk and butter from the fridge and setting them on the kitchen counter. Castiel looks back at Jack’s bowl of milk and tries not to snort. “As much as I like d-” Castiel cuts him off with a hissed noise and points at Jack. “Bananas, as much as I like bananas, I didn’t need to see his.”

“Deanie has banabas?” Jack asks, very seriously, putting his spoon in the bowl. “Deanie! Can I have banabas?”

Dean’s at least wearing a towel when he appears in front of Jack, grinning brightly at the boy. He’s holding a banana, and Castiel has absolutely no idea where it came from, seeing as how he’s pretty sure they didn’t have any in the house. 

“Thank ‘oo, Deanie!” Jack shouts, taking the bits of banana Dean has ripped off into even sized chunks. He shoves the first piece in his mouth, face already covered in the sticky yellow food, when he finally realises something about Dean is different. Other than the nakedness. With a mouthful of banana, Jack says, “Deanie, your wings are pretty!”

“Thank you Jack. You know, they’re much prettier when they’re clean. Your daddy is going to help me clean them, then maybe you can help him brush them. But you have to wash your hands first, okay?”

Jack nods excitedly.

And because Gabriel’s a shit, as Dean and Castiel are on their way to the hallway, he says, “Just make sure you aren’t mauled by anymore bears in there.”

“There are bears in the bathroom?”

Castiel laughs, dragging Dean by the wrist into the bathroom, yelling back towards the kitchen, “Make bacon!” before he shuts and locks the door. He leans up to kiss Dean once more before he starts stripping off his clothes, throwing them in the hamper and heading to the drawer to find Jack’s baby shampoo, figuring it’s the best they’ve got for Dean’s wings. 

They can both fit in the shower with Dean’s wings folded, but they have to step out of it when Castiel starts rubbing the shampoo through the feathers. Getting the gunk out of his wings is the easy part, it’s mostly dried and it comes out in his nails. It’s when Castiel gets to the broken feathers that he hits a problem, but only because they’re so many of them, and he’s not sure where to leave them without clogging up the drain or covering the floor in them. In the end, he moves Dean over to the bathtub and just throws all of the feathers inside, making a mental note to clean them up later. 

“Better?” Castiel asks as he’s drying Dean’s wings with one of Jack’s towels. He knows he still has to cover the wings in preening oil once they’re dry, but for now, they look much better than when they started.

Dean nods, hand snaked around Castiel’s waist. “Much, thank you Castiel.”

Castiel hooks his arm around Dean’s neck and presses his face to the angel’s throat, breathing him in for a moment, just because he can. Dean’s face is in Castiel’s wet hair, mouth pressing the occasional kiss to his scalp.

“How much longer?”

Dean shrugs. “I won’t know until they call me.”

They manage to make it all the way through preening (which Jack tries very hard to help with, but mostly ends up sitting in Dean’s lap for, while _Sofia the First_ plays on the TV), and most of the way through pancakes and bacon. Dean’s head tilts to the side suddenly and his eyes unfocus, which is usually an indication that he’s listening to Angel Radio. He stands up from the table and clicks his fingers, swapping the track pants he’d stolen from Castiel’s closet for his normal black suit and shiny shoes. 

“I’ll be back soon. I promise,” he whispers as he’s kissing Castiel. 

He doesn’t leave until he’s placed a gentle kiss on the top of Jack’s head and pulled both Gabriel and the newly woken Claire into hugs. Castiel’s heart clenches as he watches, and he can’t fight the smile that tilts his mouth. By God, he is stupid for him.

Dean plants another kiss on Castiel’s mouth - like he’s as reluctant to leave as Dean is to let him go - before he’s gone, and Castiel is sitting at the table wishing he could’ve stopped him.

**Author's Note:**

> Do you like Destiel? Well you're in luck! Profound Bond is a server on Discord for people just like you, you can find it [here](https://discord.gg/profoundbond)!


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